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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23903737">Butterfly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/setrevuo/pseuds/setrevuo'>setrevuo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>28-day ficlet writing challenge [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Monsta X (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, Introspection, Old Age, Time Travel, ish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:07:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23903737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/setrevuo/pseuds/setrevuo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation between the past, present, and future Hoseoks over dinner.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>28-day ficlet writing challenge [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Butterfly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt -<br/>PAST: write a letter addressed to your childhood self.<br/>FUTURE: write a letter addressed to your future self.</p><p>Combining these two prompts because I can ayy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nighttime, indoors. Muted lighting shows off a packed restaurant, nothing too fancy, but enough for the conversations to carry on in respected murmurs. Families converge around circular tables draped in presentable attire, smiling and laughing politely. The clinking of silver cutlery against china rings out on occasion, and warm instrumentals of familiarity sets the backdrop. </p><p>The table at the very center is ordinary, unassuming, and the waiters and the customers alike look past it as if it isn’t even there. If they could see it, they’d see three people: a child, a man nearing his 30s, and an elderly man. They’d appear to look related, at first. But look closer, and their resemblances are so distinct, it’s eerily uncanny. It’s as if they are three snapshots of the same person at different stages in his life.</p><p>“Are you cold?” Hoseok asks the child. The child heaves giant spoonfuls of food into his mouth before quickly sitting back on his hands, kicking his feet as he happily chews.</p><p>“Here, hold onto this.” The older man reaches over to give the child a hotpack.</p><p>“What about for you?” Hoseok asks the elder.</p><p>The man unpockets another hotpack and shakes it to activate it, smiling.</p><p>“Why aren’t you cold?” The child speaks in between chews as he looks at Hoseok.</p><p>“Hmm,” Hoseok appears deep in thought, but it’s only for the child’s amusement. “I think it’s because I run a lot, so my body runs hot.”</p><p>The child is wide-eyed. “As much as me? Mommy says I should run around less. Says I can’t keep still!”</p><p>Hoseok and the older man share a kind laugh. “You sure are a playful one! Mommy has a lot on her hands.” Hoseok ruffles the child’s hair. </p><p>The older man fondly looks at the two of them. “We’ve always had such a passion for whatever we did.”</p><p>“And now?” Hoseok asks.</p><p>“Still there, just not on a physical level. But I can still beat all the kids in arm wrestling,” the man grins.</p><p>“Kids?” The child perks up. “Are those your kids? Are you married?”</p><p>“Ah,” Hoseok hesitates. “We don’t want to get married.”</p><p>“Why?” The child frowns.</p><p>Hoseok doesn’t wish to answer, and instead provides a distraction. “But we do want kids!”</p><p>The child makes a face. “No, I don't. I <em> hate </em> kids.” </p><p>“What do you mean?” Hoseok laughs. “<em>You’re </em> a kid.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I’m fine. But other kids are gross.”</p><p>The elder tsks. “You'll understand when you're older.” </p><p>The child’s pout deepens. “Ugh, I hate it when adults say that.” </p><p>Hoseok turns to the older man, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “So? What happens to us?”</p><p>The man takes a shaky breath, and smiles. “We live.”</p><p>“Is that enough?” Hoseok looks down and pushes the untouched food around on his plate. “Don’t you have regrets?”</p><p>“Of course I do,” the man chuckles. “Because we love ourselves. Of course we have regrets. We regret that life doesn’t always deal us the cards we deserve.”</p><p>“Could I have done anything better?” Hoseok asks.</p><p>“Perhaps.”</p><p>“Care to expand on that?”</p><p>“Hoseok,” the old man says, and two people at the table look up. “We can keep dreaming of alternate timelines. But I can’t say for sure that taking those other paths could lead to happier lives. The universe is so delicate, and so fickle. What may look like a missed blessing now could have hurt us more in the future.”</p><p>“It’s a rather negative way of thinking, isn’t it?” Hoseok mumbles. </p><p>“Negative?” The man shakes his head with a smile. “To think that we’re living in the happiest timeline?”</p><p>“But there are definitely mistakes that I made. Mistakes our life could’ve done without.”</p><p>“Maybe.”</p><p>Hoseok sighs, exasperated. “Could your answers be any more vague?”</p><p>The child sighs following suit. “Now you know how I feel! Adults are a <em> pain.</em>”</p><p>The momentary interruption lightens Hoseok’s mood. He taps the child’s nose. “I’m an adult, too, you know.”</p><p>“Eh,” the child shrugs.</p><p>Hoseok snorts before turning back to the older man. “Is there anything you <em> can </em> advise me?”</p><p>“No. I think you’re living perfectly.”</p><p>“Do you not remember what I’ve done?”</p><p>“I do. Every moment, as clearly as you. I look back at our life, at all of its highs and lows, at all of our faults and mistakes, I live in exactly each one of the moments in exactly the way we did. I look back, and I see and hear and feel so much, Hoseok. We did <em> so much. </em> This beautiful, intricate, ridiculous culmination of experiences and emotions is everything that I know, everything that makes us who we are. To imagine if our life could’ve ended up any other way, is to imagine us to never have existed at all.”</p><p>Hoseok hides his tears from the child, hastily rubbing away the evidence. When he speaks again, his voice is low. “What if I mess up again?”</p><p>The older man places his own hand over Hoseok’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I believe in you, Hoseok. More than anyone else, more than even me now, I trust you will do exactly what you need to do.”</p><p>“And me?” The child asks.</p><p>“I believe in you, too,” the older man laughs.</p><p>“Good, because I know exactly what I need to do now. Order dessert!”</p>
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